


Ante Up, Alley-oop

by Amand_r



Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Multi, kink bingo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-26
Updated: 2011-03-26
Packaged: 2017-10-17 07:12:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/174243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Amand_r/pseuds/Amand_r
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tales from the TARDIS stripper pole!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ante Up, Alley-oop

**Author's Note:**

> This is a submission for the kink_bingo challenge on Dreamwidth.

"So, when did this appear?" The Doctor asked Rose, who shrugged and slid down the finish.

"Dunno, it's new. Makes me giggly when I touch it." She grasped the pole with both hands, then jumped in the air and spun around a bit. "Rather tingly."

"Yeah, that might be scotch," Jack offered from his seat on the sofa. He was helpful like that.

The Doctor shrugged and watched Rose fall onto her arse with a thump, her back resting against the room's new electroless-finish addition. Jack smirked into his glass at the sheer irritation on The Doctor's face as he glared at the brandy in his hand. Jack had to sympathise with him for a second.

"You, Captain," The Doctor muttered as Rose crawled towards the sofa and leaned against the front of it. You are a bad influence on my ship."

Jack knew he was many things, and currently, sober wasn't one of them. He just wanted to state that for the record. If there was a record, and there better as hell be one, because right now he was watching the Doctor, just a little bit tipsy, use the TARDIS pole as a support. He had wavered after this fifth drink, muttered something about the ol' girl laying out the red carpet for Jack, and he had grabbed the pole. The pole, true to form, rotated in its fittings and he careened forward into Rose, who had been doing her best to stay upright, and to not look at the Doctor's bum while he'd been fiddling with the glasses at the bar.

Jack didn't blame her. He liked that bum, too.

"No one going to use this, are they?" The Doctor grumbled. "Making a mockery of my whole library, it is, and yet, you two are still there, fully-clothed."

Rose glanced at the Doctor's face. "Oi! Use it yourself."

The Doctor ran one hand up and down the chrome and Jack's breath caught. "I just might," he said.

"Okay then," Rose barked, lower lip jutting out. "Go on then. Do it."

The Doctor set his drink down on a table with exaggerated care and grabbed near the top of the pole; it turned automatically with his weight when he lifted them, but when his feet touched the ground again, the rubber soles of his shoes stopped him with a squeak, and his upper body pitched forward. He toed the shoes off and kicked them away, reaching down to peel his socks off with hooked fingers.

Jack whistled. "This is the worst strip tease ever!"

The Doctor gave him a funny look. Funny, because Jack wasn't sure if he'd just pissed the man off or embarrassed him.

It didn't matter really, because the doctor focused his gaze on the shiny chrome finish of the pole in front of him and licked it.

"Okay then," Jack said, throwing an arm along the back of the sofa. "Now we're getting somewhere."

The Doctor's hands ran up over his head to grab as high as he could, and then with a lift off, he bent his knees, vaulting up, and crunched at the waist until his legs flipped themselves around the pole and he was essentially curling around it from behind. His face was a mask of concentration for a second, as if he hadn't planned beyond that movement, and then, as his hands slipped a little, he thudded down to the floor for a second before lifting off again.

Rose leaned back against Jack's leg, and so he couldn't see her face, but he was pretty sure that it resembled his own. The Doctor's upper arms strained against the sleeves of his shirt when he lowered his hands to groin level and pushed himself upside down, legs split and swinging up to curl around the pole above his head and torso, which kept spinning and spinning, a fine thing when the front of the person was just as lovely as the back.

Rose leaned back to look at him. "He's showing off,"

Jack nodded. "Cute, but not sexy," he commented, and the Doctor glared at them, his feet slapping down on the floor.

"Cute is good," the Doctor told them both, smiling. "Cute gets you a lot of places that sexy won't." He reached down with one hand and pulled his shirt off over his head, wiping his brow with it before tossing it at Rose. "I think that thing just reversed polarity of the universe," he muttered. His chest heaved a little as he sat down on the sofa next to Jack, so close Jack could feel his body heat through his trousers.

Rose crawled up to the pole and ran her hands up it from her kneeling position, as if she was worshipping it. "So what, is it opposite day now?"

The Doctor grinned and looked at Jack. "Yeah. Wouldn't that be cracker?"

Jack didn't understand anything that was going on, so it had to be opposite day. In fact, the only thing that he did know was that his jeans were too tight. Instead he looked away from his own crotch and muttered. "All right then, Rose? Are we getting a free show?"

"Oi!" The Doctor objected. "My show wasn't free." He smacked Jack's chest with the back of his hand. "Just deferred payment, is all."

Jack didn't look at him, but instead chose to rest one of his hands on the Doctor's knee and slide it up a little. No too much. The man was skittish, and not sexually. Just in general skittishy.

Rose faced them and swayed on the pole, arms holding on over her head, back and forth. Jack wanted her to be wearing a little skirt, maybe she could have some gum to snap in that smart mouth, take it out and stick it on one of the Doctor's wooden reading tables before she ground her crotch into the pole, working her skirt along the electroless.

It was just as good, though, to see Rose roll around on the pole before suddenly jumping up, grasping, her legs splitting to the sides with knees bent, her eyes meeting his and the Doctor's in turn when she came around every time. When she landed, she dragged herself around and around, mad carousel, her little feet tipping up on her toes, and then her ass pressed perfectly against it when she stopped, feet splayed. One hand went over head to hold onto the pole, and the other unbuttoned her jeans, fingers sliding in to cup her groin. Oh yeah.

The TARDIS loved him.

"Now, Rose," the Doctor said, his voice a little strained. "You don't have to do this."

Rose lowered her chin and smiled, little kitten tongue peeking through her teeth. That top hand ran down the pole, over her neck, and under her shirt, pulling, pulling, and Jack's hand squeezed the Doctor's thigh. His drink was forgotten in his hand. Rose pulled the shirt up (one of the edges of it caught on the lacy fabric of her bra and lingered there) and over, throwing it at them before levering herself off the pole and padding towards them, slapping her hips and humming something that Jack identified as a cheesy burlesque theme. She rolled her hips about and slid her fingers under the wire of her bra, flipping it up almost comically before flipping it back down, where it settled haphazardly against her breasts, barely covering the rounded undersides. Jack was almost disappointed.

He wasn't disappointed when she straddled them both, one knee in between his legs, one between the Doctor's. Her humming dissolved into a few low giggles, and then she wrapped her arms about their necks and pulled them in, the only concession to her drunkenness the coconut-like sound of their heads colliding. Jack laughed into her mouth, close enough to feel the moisture from her breath, but not enough to fasten on.

"I think the TARDIS wants you to ride her pole, Jack," Rose whispered.

"You've set the bar impossibly high," he groaned.

"Come on then, Jack," The Doctor joked, his grin quite wide. And a little scary. In that scary way that made Jack want to fuck his mouth. "Do the full monty."

END


End file.
